


Cantabunt mihi

by Daximed



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Implied Relationships, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Magic, Nipple Clamps, Nipple Play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:52:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,230
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3867748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daximed/pseuds/Daximed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know, my dear Commander, it is a rather shame that you stay cooped up in this drafty space all day.” </p>
<p>Dorian’s words are accentuated by the slow clicking of heels, his arms folding together loosely as he speaks. </p>
<p>“The same room, day after day. With the same little desk, the same view of the mountains, and the same scouts fluttering in and out.  Are you sensing a pattern here?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cantabunt mihi

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally a prompt on tumblr that I just kind of flew with.  
> "dorian wants to use magic in bed and his partner is nervous about it"
> 
> I just kind of got distracted with the magic part and the nervous part just kind of fluttered away, my bad.
> 
> Very light dom/sub happenings, including discussion of a previously decided safeword.  
> Personally I view Cullen and Dorian as being switches, and Cullen is the sub this time around
> 
> Hope you enjoy! Hell, It's 5 am...

Cullen has his head down when the heavy wooden door across his desk heaves open. There’s a clack of steel heels in quick succession before the door protests once more, this time settling back to its closed state.

“Dorian.” The word leaves the commander’s mouth in a sigh, eyes still trained on the manuscripts spread before him. His hand has found its way to his temple, easing away a lingering pain made worse by the small script. “To what do I owe the-,” the door is barred, and with it Cullen’s attention is drawn to his guest. “…Pleasure?”

Dorian appears to barely register the man’s greeting as he quickly makes his way to either of the remaining doors, heeled shoes echoing loudly in the lofty room. Upon properly sealing of the final door, the mage swiftly turns to settle his gaze upon Cullen. He takes in the man’s apparent confusion and begins stepping lightly toward the desk, a coy grin beginning to shape his features.

“You know, my dear Commander, it is a rather shame that you stay cooped up in this drafty space all day.” Dorian’s words are accentuated by the slow clicking of heels, his arms folding together loosely as he speaks. “The same room, day after day. With the same little desk, the same view of the mountains, and the same scouts fluttering in and out. Are you sensing a pattern here?”

Cullen has all but forgotten his paperwork in place of the man approaching him such as a snake would a small field mouse. His brow furrows, eyes darting to the side as he swallows thickly. “It’s not as if I’m barricaded in. Just this morning I was on the battlements with some of the new recruits.” Cullen’s attention is drawn back when a leather clad hand is placed on top of the letter he had been reviewing only moments before.

“You’re avoiding the question, Commander.”

Cullen exhales slowly, “It’s work, Dorian. This… This “same-ness” is part of the reason I’m here.” 

Dorian clicks his tongue, his lips curling into a devilish grin. “Then I believe you’ve earned yourself a break, a change of pace so to speak. Don’t tell me this botched excuse of penmanship wasn’t driving you mad. The bearer of this should have their hand removed as a mercy to the rest of us.” The mage’s hand nudges at the offending parchment with a haughty sniff, earning a soft smile from the warrior.  
“I would think that Lady Montilyet would rather keep her hand attached as is.” Cullen muses as Dorian quickly schools his embarrassment.

“Ah. Which would explain why it looked familiar, and, of course, why you will not be repeating anything I’ve just said.” Dorian straightens himself, ignoring Cullen’s obvious amusement. “Now, I believe we’re getting far off topic from my intended purpose here. Which is, if you’ll remember, allowing you to have a much needed break from this… How did you put it? “Same-ness”? Simply said, as are most things you say are, but it shall do.”

Before Cullen can protest Dorian is already behind his chair, maneuvering him to stand, and escorting him to the patch-work ladder that leads to the upper level. For as much as he should be attending to his paperwork, Cullen mulls over all the reasons he really could use a break in his mindless ascent upward. Dorian follows shortly behind, tapping lightly at his calves to signal the larger man to move faster. The mage is quickly on him once they’ve reached the top, making work of the buckles and latches holding his armor in place.

“Is all of this really necessary? It’s not as if you’ll be expected to fight off anyone mid signature.” Dorian huffs, making his annoyance known as Cullen follows suit and makes due of his spaulders.  
“It never hurts to be prepared, literally in this case. I’d rather be armored than caught off-guard.” Is Cullen’s only reply, before stepping back to hang his removed gear on the lone wooden rack near his bed.  
“Yes, well that’s good and fine, but it doesn’t excuse how ridiculous it is to remove.” Dorian gestures vaguely with his hands before folding them. 

Cullen swiftly makes due of his thick boots, turning slightly to face the mage with hands gripped loosely at the bottom of his light undershirt. “Are you… Will you be undressing anytime soon?” The question is teasing, Cullen already easing the thin cloth up and over the expanse of his abdomen.

The Altus hums softly, arms remaining crosses as a smirk toys on his lips,” I’m afraid I‘m just enjoying the view for now, deliciae. This is your much deserved break after all.”  
Cullen falters momentarily, undershirt half-way over his head, “You’re…” he finishes removing the opposing garment, furrowing his brows as he swiftly folds the piece out of habit. “You… Would you mind filling me in on what this break entails? I’m starting to feel rather underdressed.”

Dorian clicks his tongue again with a smile, striding toward the taller man. “If anything, you’re a bit overdressed for what I had in mind.” The mage smoothly slips his long fingers between the strings securing Cullen’s breaches, deftly unlacing them and easing the fabric downward. “All that I wish of you, leo cor meum, is to relax, and listen to my proposal. Something that will change this, ahem, “same-ness” you’ve fallen into.” There’s a fondness in his hushed voice as Dorian gently lifts a hand to brush a stray lock of blonde hair behind the commander’s ear. There’s a slight crinkle to the mage’s eyes as his hand trails down to idly scratch at the base of the taller man’s neck. “And above all, I ask that you trust me.”

Cullen rumbles deep in his throat, eyes half-lidded as he leans into the warm touch, “You know that I do.”

“Say it for me,” the mage’s voice is but a soft hum.

Cullen’s eyes train to the grey pair across from his with a sureness, “Plackart.”

“Do not feel as though you must hesitate to use it. Do you understand?” Dorian’s hand has wandered to the man’s strong jawline.

The commander easily cups his own hand around the mage’s, “I understand.”

There’s a spark in Dorian’s eye at the confirmation, a smirk on his lips. “Good. When you’re ready, make yourself comfortable and remove this.” He makes a quick motion to the only piece of clothing left on the warrior, and unlatches the buckles and straps on his own bracers.

Cullen is quick to please, removing his undergarment with ease, and arranging the mismatched pillows in the center of his bed to his liking. Once he’s thoroughly satisfied, Cullen settles himself atop the pile, idly running the pads of his fingers across just above his still soft member with his legs spread easily. His eyes drift toward Dorian as the other man approaches the bed, eyes drinking in the site of Cullen laid before him.

“It will be difficult not to simply have my way with you, the look you’re giving me. And they say that I’m the wicked one,” The Altus puffs lightly, kneeling before the blonde. One of Dorian’s hands grazes over the commander’s flank, perfectly trimmed nails barely a scratch “Cullen, I must be blunt with you. What I have in mind involves some amount of magic. Though we have dabbled, I understand that the topic can make you uncomfortable. Do you wish for me to stop?” 

Cullen pauses in his own ministrations to draw in an even breath. Though being with the mage had certainly helped to heal some of the lingering fear Cullen felt about magic being used on him, he still found reassurance in being able to prepare himself mentally beforehand. It was only a brief amount of time before Cullen met Dorian’s eyes once more, and, with a warm smile, replied, “Please continue.” 

Dorian’s answering grin was enough to shake off any lingering doubt in Cullen’s mind. Dorian shifted slightly, wiggling between Cullen spread legs with ease. “There will be no bindings of any kind used, but you may not touch yourself in anyway. And, as always, do be as vocal as you please. You know how it spurns me on, hearing the Commander of the Inquisition cry for more,” the mage croons, earning a pleased rumble from the body beneath him. The mage warms his hands to a temperature he knows makes the taller man sigh in relief, slowly lowering them to rest just above Cullen’s hip bones.  
His hands begin to illuminate ever so softly with a green hue, earning a low hum from the warrior. “A bit of spirit magic to start, deliciae. We don’t want your break ending too soon, now do we?” Dorian murmurs, a grin playing on his features. The mage takes special care to trace every scar on the man’s body, dancing and weaving a path over the slopes and planes of marred skin. With one hand, he deftly tweaks one nipple, watching it pebble with the accompanying groan of approval from below. Casting a frost mote just around his lips, Dorian leans forward to take the bud into his mouth. 

Cullen’s mouth falls open on an exhale, his hand reaching blindly to cup the nape of the mage’s neck. The blonde’s erection is quickly growing, Dorian having just repeated his previous actions on the other bud. Cullen barely registers the murmured phrases Dorian is whispering in Tevene as both hands flick over the pert buds. There’s a sudden sensation that rushes through the commander’s chest, both nipples feeling as though they’re being held tightly in clamps. His curiosity getting the better of him, Cullen peers down his chest only to find the buds standing at attention.

Dorian’s chuckle drifts down,” Much better than the physical objects, in my humble opinion. And do you want to know the best part?” As if to demonstrate, he lifts one hand to jerk his wrist ever so slightly. The outcome sends a jolt buzzing from the buds straight to Cullen’s groin, a half-formed moan escaping the blonde’s lips. Dorian moves closer to Cullen’s chest, murmuring softly. “Do you like that, deliciae? Do you like it when I leave you so pliant? I can feel you growing so heavy, and so soon… Imagine if I made you cum from this alone. Would you like that, Cullen?” To punctuate his statement, Dorian flicks his wrist once more, causing the most obscene moan to escape the commander’s mouth.

Cullen is practically leaking as Dorian’s wrist flexes again. He begins to helplessly rut the mage’s leg, searching for some kind of friction. Cullen’s hands grapple uselessly at the duvet under him, his breath coming out in soft puffs. He’s lost in the aftershocks of the magic until another bolt runs through him, and he omits a low cry. He’s out of breath and babbling mindlessly as the shocks seem to vibrate through him, “M…. Maker, please… Dorian, I-“

Dorian is right there, lowering his mouth to the man’s ear so that his mustache scratches lightly against Cullen’s cheek. “Yes, deliciae, what is it you need? Tell me what you desire, sol mea, and it shall be yours.” The words are practically a purr in Cullen’s ear. Just as he’s about to answer, another shock jolts through him, eliciting a louder scream that tappers off into a heavy moan. Dorian’s voice is a buzz,” I love seeing you like this. Laid open just for me, voice so deliciously sweet. Speciosae… Decorissimum, cor meum.”

Cullen can barely focus enough through the haze of pleasure. He can feel the tightening in his gut, his balls drawing up in preparation. “D-… Dorian, please, Dorian, I’m… I’m going to… I’m ready,” his voice is strained, breathy. Both is arms easily bracket around the smaller man’s shoulders just as he’s about to cum.

Dorian’s voice is husky in his ear, whispering hotly in Tevene. ” Cantabunt mihi, amatus,” is the only warning he gives before pressing his heated hand to the center of Cullen’s chest, and unleashing one final shockwave through the commander’s body.

Cullen comes apart with a shout, body shaking as his release empties on the leg he had been rutting against. His arms begin to loosen around the mage, the spectral clamps having disappeared. He properly comes to with Dorian murmuring praises into his ear, a hand carding through his damp curls. In a haze he registers Dorian hushing him sweetly as the mage rises from the bed. It’s only a matter of minutes before he returns, the rest of his clothing now removed, with a damp cloth. Dorian goes about cleaning the spend from Cullen’s groin before lifting the thick duvet from below him to toss over the pair.

It isn’t until Dorian is happily slotting himself behind him that Cullen realizes the Altus is still hard, though it’s slowly going down. “Dorian, but you didn’t-“he begins before being cut off by a hand lightly stroking across is stomach and a hush from the other man.

“I’m fine, amatus. Don’t worry that pretty little head of yours. This was your break after all.” Cullen can practically feel the devilish grin as Dorian purrs softly. “Rest now, I have much more in mind for next time.”

Cullen vaguely registers the hum of Dorian’s tenor before succumbing to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> I apologize for the google translate level of latin used here, but if you were curious:
> 
> deliciae - pet (also delicacy, darling, sweetheart, and like 15 other things)  
> leo cor meum - my lion heart  
> sol mea - my sun  
> speciosae - beautiful  
> decorissimum - beautiful man  
> cor meum - my heart  
> cantabunt mihi - Sing for me
> 
>  
> 
> Come find me on tumblr!  
> http://daximed.tumblr.com/


End file.
